Post by Claire Redfield on Mar 19, 2014 14:40:00 GMT -8
His boots crunched on the gravel beside the road. Slowly but steadily, the fog crept in as he walked. The words of that woman back at the diner echoed through his thoughts.
~Null Moon
Lisa checked the clock again. Don't be a clock-watcher, she chided herself, but she couldn't help it. The shift was barely half over and she just felt so anxious. She didn't even know why. Then he walked in.
He looked like a Renaissance Faire refugee: long blue coat with white trim and white pants, ruffled shirt, boots and gloves with thick, folded cuffs... and a whip coiled at his hip. With his long brown hair, deep blue eyes and youthful, angular features, he was also the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Lisa fought the urge to drop the coffee pot she held.
He came in with a pack slung over one shoulder and stood just in the doorway, looking around the diner like it was something he'd never seen before. Some of the other patrons, most of them grizzled old truckers and farmers who liked to take their breakfast before the sun rose, couldn't help but stare at the pretty boy. Yet when he looked back, they turned away; his was a gaze of steely confidence and presence that belied his youth. Lisa went to meet him, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver in her spine as their eyes locked.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"I am afraid I am a stranger in these parts. I go east."
"On foot? Oh, honey, you don't wanna go east. That'll take you through Silent Hill, and you don't wanna go that way on foot. There are some strange stories about that place. My mom's friend Cybil disappeared over that way. Ned there's a cop, too. He could tell you."
A man sitting up at the counter swiveled around on the stool, resting an elbow on the counter. He wiped at his lips with a napkin. Ned had a severe face, with a crooked nose that had been broken more than once. "Yeah, I remember Cybil. Disappeared almost twenty years ago. Never found nothin' but her motorcycle." He looked upon the stranger with a dubious expression. "Why, you some kind of reporter or somethin'? Look more like a pirate, to me."
"I am no buccaneer, nor am I a herald. I come because I am called. This land is foreign to me, but my resolve is the same."
Lisa shook her head. "I'd stay clear of Silent Hill, anyway, stranger. It's too weird. You wouldn't believe some of the rumors used to come out of there: cults and people disappearing."
At that, the young man actually smiled, a reassuring smile. "Fear not, milady. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil." She reminds me of Maria. They must be nearly the same age, as well. "You remind me of someone." She was a lovely young woman, with long blond locks tied back, a few left free to dangle in front of her ears. He looked at the small tag clipped to her blouse. It read: Lisa.
"I'm Lisa. Lisa Garland. My mom named me after my aunt. I never got to meet her. She disappeared in that place, too. Like I said, I'd stay away from it, mister." Lisa held up the coffee pot. "Can I get ya some coffee? Something to eat?"
The young man shook his head. "No, but thank you. You have given me all I need." He turned back to the door, but hesitated with his hand on the bar. He turned back and smiled once more at Lisa. "I am Richter. Like the wind, I shall pass this way again."
With that, he was gone, leaving Lisa and the diner patrons rather confused. There were no more snickers, though. Strange as Richter was, there was something about him that left everyone both thankful he'd come and thankful he'd gone. Lisa stared at the door for several long minutes before she reluctantly returned to her work.
~Forest
Trees towered over him on either side, looming high through the fog. A corridor of dark, foreboding shapes, silent wardens overlooking the youth on his journey. Fog swirled about his feet like ghostly hands reaching up from the earth.
Cults. Disappearances. These were things that Richter knew well. A great evil called to him, tugged at the strings of his mind. That evil had a name. Silent Hill.
Richter's breath curled up into the chill night, but the divine fire sustained him. He had long to go before fatigue and exposure claimed his righteous strength.
A dark shape lay entangled in the underbrush off the road ahead. As soon as he saw it, Richter's heart sank. He felt a sadness he could not explain until he saw it up close. Brushing leaves and dirt away from it, he looked down upon a strange, dusty object, a steel horse, with wheels for hooves and handlebars for a mane. He'd seen others just like it back at the diner. This must be that constable's 'motorcycle'. Richter had a sinking feeling that some ill fate had befallen her as he traced his fingertips through the dust on the gas tank.
Fear not, Lady Cybil. I come to put the ghosts of Silent Hill to rest.
He stood, clenching the Vampire Killer whip in his hand, and looked up at the full moon. Ever an ominous sign, its pale light shrouded in clouds, to Richter it was but a cold reminder of the sunrise to follow, as always it must.
A sibilant rustle sounded through the forest somewhere behind him as something moved through the foliage. Richter paused for a moment, turning his head slightly, before he continued on. The fog hungrily swallowed the crunch of his footsteps, but as he began to sing softly to himself, even the emptiness of the night could not diminish his voice.
Richter Belmont had come to pass judgment on Silent Hill.
Silent Hill: Nocturne in the Moonlight
* * *
~Null Moon
Lisa checked the clock again. Don't be a clock-watcher, she chided herself, but she couldn't help it. The shift was barely half over and she just felt so anxious. She didn't even know why. Then he walked in.
He looked like a Renaissance Faire refugee: long blue coat with white trim and white pants, ruffled shirt, boots and gloves with thick, folded cuffs... and a whip coiled at his hip. With his long brown hair, deep blue eyes and youthful, angular features, he was also the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Lisa fought the urge to drop the coffee pot she held.
He came in with a pack slung over one shoulder and stood just in the doorway, looking around the diner like it was something he'd never seen before. Some of the other patrons, most of them grizzled old truckers and farmers who liked to take their breakfast before the sun rose, couldn't help but stare at the pretty boy. Yet when he looked back, they turned away; his was a gaze of steely confidence and presence that belied his youth. Lisa went to meet him, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver in her spine as their eyes locked.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"I am afraid I am a stranger in these parts. I go east."
"On foot? Oh, honey, you don't wanna go east. That'll take you through Silent Hill, and you don't wanna go that way on foot. There are some strange stories about that place. My mom's friend Cybil disappeared over that way. Ned there's a cop, too. He could tell you."
A man sitting up at the counter swiveled around on the stool, resting an elbow on the counter. He wiped at his lips with a napkin. Ned had a severe face, with a crooked nose that had been broken more than once. "Yeah, I remember Cybil. Disappeared almost twenty years ago. Never found nothin' but her motorcycle." He looked upon the stranger with a dubious expression. "Why, you some kind of reporter or somethin'? Look more like a pirate, to me."
"I am no buccaneer, nor am I a herald. I come because I am called. This land is foreign to me, but my resolve is the same."
Lisa shook her head. "I'd stay clear of Silent Hill, anyway, stranger. It's too weird. You wouldn't believe some of the rumors used to come out of there: cults and people disappearing."
At that, the young man actually smiled, a reassuring smile. "Fear not, milady. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil." She reminds me of Maria. They must be nearly the same age, as well. "You remind me of someone." She was a lovely young woman, with long blond locks tied back, a few left free to dangle in front of her ears. He looked at the small tag clipped to her blouse. It read: Lisa.
"I'm Lisa. Lisa Garland. My mom named me after my aunt. I never got to meet her. She disappeared in that place, too. Like I said, I'd stay away from it, mister." Lisa held up the coffee pot. "Can I get ya some coffee? Something to eat?"
The young man shook his head. "No, but thank you. You have given me all I need." He turned back to the door, but hesitated with his hand on the bar. He turned back and smiled once more at Lisa. "I am Richter. Like the wind, I shall pass this way again."
With that, he was gone, leaving Lisa and the diner patrons rather confused. There were no more snickers, though. Strange as Richter was, there was something about him that left everyone both thankful he'd come and thankful he'd gone. Lisa stared at the door for several long minutes before she reluctantly returned to her work.
* * *
~Forest
Trees towered over him on either side, looming high through the fog. A corridor of dark, foreboding shapes, silent wardens overlooking the youth on his journey. Fog swirled about his feet like ghostly hands reaching up from the earth.
Cults. Disappearances. These were things that Richter knew well. A great evil called to him, tugged at the strings of his mind. That evil had a name. Silent Hill.
Richter's breath curled up into the chill night, but the divine fire sustained him. He had long to go before fatigue and exposure claimed his righteous strength.
A dark shape lay entangled in the underbrush off the road ahead. As soon as he saw it, Richter's heart sank. He felt a sadness he could not explain until he saw it up close. Brushing leaves and dirt away from it, he looked down upon a strange, dusty object, a steel horse, with wheels for hooves and handlebars for a mane. He'd seen others just like it back at the diner. This must be that constable's 'motorcycle'. Richter had a sinking feeling that some ill fate had befallen her as he traced his fingertips through the dust on the gas tank.
Fear not, Lady Cybil. I come to put the ghosts of Silent Hill to rest.
He stood, clenching the Vampire Killer whip in his hand, and looked up at the full moon. Ever an ominous sign, its pale light shrouded in clouds, to Richter it was but a cold reminder of the sunrise to follow, as always it must.
A sibilant rustle sounded through the forest somewhere behind him as something moved through the foliage. Richter paused for a moment, turning his head slightly, before he continued on. The fog hungrily swallowed the crunch of his footsteps, but as he began to sing softly to himself, even the emptiness of the night could not diminish his voice.
Richter Belmont had come to pass judgment on Silent Hill.
Silent Hill: Nocturne in the Moonlight